


When The Moon Rise

by v_nikki



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Accidents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Character Death, Depression, Family, Friendship/Love, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_nikki/pseuds/v_nikki
Summary: Kang Younghyun was a 17-year old boy; very much alive. He wished he was dead. It would all be easier then.Until he met Park Jaehyung; a ghost who wished he wasn't dead.Since then, Younghyun's life started to change. Jae claimed it had nothing to do with him.





	1. Hi Hello

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello there! Thanks for clicking this story, my first attempt at Day6 fanfiction. I hope you'll stay reading till the end. Leave a comment or two. Have a nice day! *wink  
> Disclaimer: Any similarities in this fanfic with the real world are pure coincidence. Do pardon any mistakes as English is not my main language.

CHAPTER 1: HI HELLO

 

     The summer night felt as dry as ever even with the winds blowing the soul out of a young male hunching over the edge of the hill he’d ran off to. He could still hear his father’s voice screaming at the top of his lungs for not having his dinner cooked and served the moment he woke up from his alcohol-induced-slumber, and he could feel the bruise forming on his left cheek where his father had chose to strike that night. Yesterday had been his torso.

     A tear managed to slip through his tightly shut eyes and he cursed at himself. He vent the rage he felt at the moment of weakness when he remembered the time he swore to never cry again and it had only been three days since he said his vows. Instead he found himself sniffing through the dark sky wondering whether it was safe to crawl back into the place he barely calls home anymore.

     _What if you don’t?_

_A small step and you’ll be gone, just like that…_

     The sound of earth crunching into crumbles resonated as he scrambled onto his feet, roughly wiping his tears and snots away with his tattered forearm as he stared into oblivion.

     The small town in his view whispered nothing in his wake as the image of the man whose name was written as his guardian in his school documents took place, along with the strikes and punches he held none back. He could barely make out the outline of their building not too far on his right based on the washed-out paint glimmering under the yellow light, gratitude to his father’s remaining capability to pay the house rent when he was sober. But the paint reminded him not of his father the drunkard or of his mother who died because of a stupid teenager’s mistake. No, the colour reminded him of what he used to have two winters ago and the flashes of happy memories bleed ache into his heart.

He stopped. Sucked in a breathe. Made up him mind.

     Lifted up one leg and told himself, ‘this is it, this is where you finally man up’ as he gazed between the dark.

     _It’ll be quick and easy, just one step…_

“Please don’t.”

     He find himself taking a step back in a haste, his breathing stuttered in surprise at being addressed by someone. He truly thought he was alone up there; no one ever come up to the hill at night thus his choice of solitude in moment of despair. A turn of his head and he saw another male, slightly taller and skinnier than him with skin paler than the moon standing behind a huge tree. He could barely make out the boy’s face but from what little light the night sky had to offer, he could see the shine of bleached strands.

     His voice caught in a cry when he said, “Go away.”

“If I do, will you stay alive?” The boy asked in a quiet voice.

He frowned. “How’s this got anything to do with you?” He grumbled under his breathe then added as an afterthought, “Who are you anyway?”

He watched as the boy took a step forward, hands by his side long lean legs standing straight with unseen strength and the expression he wore were of innocence hiding behind round glasses. Two clear orbs glimmered with shades of brown and he realized he’d been staring.

     “My name’s Jae.” The boy answered with a smile. “And seeing you were about to do something unacceptable, consider me your knight in not so shining-armor.”

“ _Am.”_ He corrected and he wanted to add that the boy did look like he was shining just fine with his fair complex but instead he let out, “I don’t need your help, _Jae-ssi_ and if you think it’s unacceptable then lucky you, you have a way out.”

The boy smirked and he thought it looked unbefitting for him.  

“And this is your way out I presume?”

He glared at Jae. “Don’t act like you know my problem.” He seethed, eyes betraying his annoyance as yet another tear slipped by but he was past all that. Just one step, he whispered in his head.

Jae cut him off his thought, once again. “Whatever problem that may be, suicide is never the answer to anything.”

     Something snapped within him then.

     “Well then maybe I wasn’t looking for answers! Maybe I’m just a coward and I’m fucking desperate to just end this, okay?!” He bellowed, the sound echoing across the stars.

Jae shook his head, casting his eyes downwards so he couldn’t see his face. “No, it’s not okay.”

He frowned even more, fisting his hands and feeling his inner turmoil turned into something else. He spoke in a lower voice this time, “Please, just go away. _Please._ ” The boy remained rooted at his spot, eyes straight on him as thousands of thoughts sparked like firelies in his head.

     “Not until you promise me you won’t jump.” Jae answered.

A sudden rush of tiredness travelled through him and he found himself sighing. “Look, I don’t know who you are and I know you mean well but seriously, this is none of your business.”

“What’s your name?”

     He blinked. What. “What?” He let out. Then gulped. Jae was still staring at him, scrutinizing gaze stripping him apart inside out like a book left opened in public and the pages were flipping endlessly, courtesy of the wind.

     He took a deep breathe. “Younghyun.”

“Kang Younghyun?” asked Jae as in confirmation. He nodded, feeling confused and bizarre at once. Jae took another step forward then and something shifted under the light; the outline of Jae’s silhoutte was a blur, Younghyun noted.

     Jae parted his lips and said, “Your mother sent me to you.”

     He choked on his breathe and felt something bubbled in his throat. All of a sudden there were too little air in the atmosphere as if oxygen were cut loose and nothing was spared. He found himself gaping and blinking like an idiot before he could manage out,

     “My mother’s long-“

“She’s gone. I know.” Jae cut in. “I’m sorry. I truly am.” He added, looking apologetic.

     Younghyun’s frown grew deeper. “How do you know about this?” He asked, voice layered with distrust as he unconsciously took a step back when he realized their proximity which was a few meters away but his paranoid mind made it appear like a few centimetres.

     “ _Who are you-“_ Younghyun muttered before he found himself falling backwards and the earth was no longer beneath him.

Oh god, he thought.

     There was a moment of fleeting before Younghyun felt fingers circling his wrist and the suspension was gone. He looked up from between his hair to see the same brown orbs glimpsing through and the smile given to him was a rare one. Who’d smile that way after catching someone falling to death?

     “Gotcha.” Jae said, tilting his head, face still beaming and hand firm on Younghyun’s. “I’m going to pull you up, okay buddy?”

Younghyun wanted to interject, tell him that they’re not friends or they’d just met but he still had his manners. The guy did just save his life. Wait, what?

     Not a few minutes ago had he thought of killing himself just to spare his dad from beating him up again and when Jae had brought up the word ‘mother’ his resolve melt into nonexistence, maybe partially.

     When he was back on his feet, Younghyun couldn’t help but to marvel at the figure standing across him, facing him but then the words from before caught up and as he was about to say something, Jae cut him off.

     “For a second there, I thought you were going to ask me to let go.” He said, smile still plastered with a tone of joking in his voice.

     Younghyun quirked an eyebrow but chose not to comment on that. Instead he uttered, “I have no idea who you are but what do you mean with ‘your mother sent me to you’?”

     “Oh, we didn’t really start off the right way, did we?” Jae hummed, lightly wiping his hands on his pants before holding one out.

     “Let me introduce myself.” He said, all the way smilling. “My name’s Park Jaehyung.”

     “Are you mental or something?” Younghyun asked quietly, ignoring the extended hand.

Jae shook his head incredulously. “No, I’m not.” His words against his actions. “I’m here because your mother told me you’d be here.”

“But my mother…she’s dead.” Younghyun muttered, feeling foreign at saying it out loud after so long.

“I know.” Jae replied. “I’ve met her.”

     Taking a step back from the taller guy, Younghyun carefully treaded further away from the edge of the hill and towards the path leading back to town. He wanted to just get out of there. “You’re not making any sense.” He told Jae before turning away and ready to bolt but then the other’s words made him stop and the night had never been as peculiar as it was.

Jae had said with all honesty in his voice,

     “I met her when I died.”

He was still smiling when Younghyun last saw him.


	2. What Can I Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi there! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. I hope you enjoy this update. Have fun reading! <3

CHAPTER 2: WHAT CAN I DO

Younghyun woke up with the sound of his alarm cutting through peace in the air and his arm shot out to knock it off. He let out a chorus of grumbling and mumbling before coaxing his body upright, letting the blanket fall down along with his legs. Rubbing his eyes from the sleep, Younghyun reached out for his phone and squinted his eyes to read any messages he had received. He got one from Wonpil which he chose to ignore.

     Letting his phone fall back onto the bedside table, Younghyun took a moment to listen to any sound from outside his room. Hearing none, he slowly got up from his bed and cautiously crossed the floor to get to the windows, suspecting that his father is either still sleeping or already up and out for work. He peeked through the glass and saw the parking space empty confirming it was his latter suspicion.

     Taking a second to enjoy his solitude, Younghyun stared across the room to see his clothes from the night before wildly thrown all over the place. He sighed quietly, picking up his dirty laundries before placing them in the basket at the corner, the stain of dirt reminding him how he almost fell to his death not more than twelve hours ago.

Along with the memory of a fair boy with cold hand; the reason he was still alive.

     “Younghyun-hyung!” A jerk of his shoulders and Younghyun’s eyes went narrow at the sound of the voice. It was too familiar and too early in the morning to be annoyed, Younghyun mused. He walked out of his room and to the front door, slide it opened to reveal the owner-a petite boy his age with jet black hair and pretty face beaming gleefully at him.

     “G’ morning, Younghyun-hyung.” He chirped.

“Kim Wonpil.” Younghyun gritted. “Can you keep your voice down? People are trying to sleep.”

     Wonpil kept his mouth stretched into a smile as he spoke, “It’s almost noon, hyung.” He lied. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? We’re meeting up with the band, remember?”

     Younghyun’s eyes went round. “Shit. Was that today?”

Wonpil frowned at him, his face losing the spark as his smile disappear. “I wish you’d stop using bad words, hyung. Didn’t you read my text?” He muttered and casually walked to the front door, inviting himself like many other times he’d done when he knew Mr. Kang wasn’t home.

“Hurry up and get ready. I’ll let Sungjin-hyung know we’re on our way.” Wonpil told him, flopping down on the sofa and taking out his phone. Younghyun wasted no time as he rushed to the bathroom to wash up and within six minutes, he had his guitar bag slung over his shoulder in a set of fresh clothes.

     “C’mon, Pilie.” He said and Younghyun watched as Wonpil’s eyes travelled from his phone to his left cheek, silently taking in the purple mark that told last night’s story but Wonpil never said anything.

He smiled instead. “Let’s go.”

     Younghyun pushed the door of their practice room opened and the scent of wood hit him with familiarity. There were sound of guitar gently strummed and drum lightly accompanying it but when Wonpil announced their arrival, the instruments stopped. Sungjin was the first to speak,

“You’re late.”

     “Mianhe, hyung.” Younghyun replied, walking over to the corner to put his bag down and taking out his bass. He could feel eyes following his every move but he kept his mouth sealed.

Wonpil chimed in, “We’re not late. Junhyeok-hyung hasn’t arrived yet.” He looked around so as to set his point but then a movement caught his eyes and the fifth member made his presence known.

     “For your information, I was here after you texted Sungjin-hyung that you were ‘on our way’”. Junhyeok said calmly, his legs crossed as he sat leisurely on the sofa at the back of the room. He nudged his chin towards Younghyun’s direction, eyes staring at a violet bruise. “You fell down or what?” He asked.

Younghyun shrugged. “Might as well be that.” He muttered under his breathe and they all knew better than to prod any further. As far as Younghyun was aware, Junhyeok had been the only one to daringly point out his injuries while the others pretend to act busy but were actually listening attentively. It had been that way ever since his mother died and they knew he lost his father as well.

     “What should we start with today?” Dowoon asked, his tone gave away his attempt to change the subject. Wonpil was already at his spot, the centre seat of their line between Junhyeok who stood behind his keyboard and Sungjin who had his electric guitar gently placed on his lap. Dowoon looked comfortable settled near his drum set and Younghyun carefully plugged in his bass, checking the chords as he glanced at the keyboardist. A smirk was sent his way.

“My favourite, of course.” Wonpil told them, smiling his gums out and as the first string of chords played out, the echo of his notes in the form of self-written lyrics all courtesy of Younghyun reverbrate into thin air.

     The five of them kept on playing throughout the day, going through songs after songs-be it their own or covering other artists’ piece as their heart dance with content. This, Younghyun thought, this is where he belongs. His passion in music is something only few knew of-one of them was his mother. He thought he wouldn’t be able to play again when he lost her, no more words that could turn into lyrics that can be sang melodically when half of him died with her. But the band members proved it wrong; he will always turn to music because Younghyun knew that was the one thing she’d been proud of with him. And it made him miss her impossibly more.

     “Can we take a break?” Junhyeok’s voice cut off the trance of Wonpil’s singing and the rest of their playing. Sungjin gave a curt nod, took out his phone and started scrolling the screen. Their vocalist stood up, stretched his arms and sighed out loud.

     “Who wants snacks?” Wonpil asked, glancing behind him with a look that resembled too much of an aegyo without him knowing. Younghyun quirked his eyebrow as he silently watched Junhyeok stepping away from them and out of the practice room, totally ignoring Wonpil’s inquiry.

     Only the maknae was kind enough to respond with a sheepish smile and slow claps. “I’m in.” He chirped in his low voice.

     “Younghyun-hyung, are you coming?” asked Wonpil, rummaging through his bag to get his wallet out.

Younghyun slightly nod and said,

     “Yeah, sure-“

“No. You stay.” Sungjin suddenly cut in, his eyes fixed on the bassist before turning to Wonpil and Dowoon who were halfway out the door. “You two go. I have a few things to discuss with Younghyun about our new song.”

     “A new song? We’re getting a new song?” Wonpil tilted his head towards Younghyun’s direction, a questioning look glazing his excitement bleeped through his round eyes.

     Sungjin glared at him. “Only if you come back with my favourite snack, that is.” He threatened, letting a small smile formed at the corner of his cheek.

The vocalist pouted his lips, half his body trying to reenter the room however failing with Dowoon blocking his path. “That’s not fair, you never let me in on a new piece. What makes you think I’ll sing it for you?” He said, talking in a tone of a nine year old.

Everyone in the room knew he was lying. Wonpil loves his own voice too much.

     “Wonpilie…” Dowoon muttered, eyes downcast on the guy standing next to him. Younghyun tried to look elsewhere but his bandmates, settling on the broken cupboard at the right corner of the room where they stashed a few blankets and pillows for whenever they decided to crash the night there to have extra time working with their instruments. He could never be involved in their little bantering; it had a sort of affection that Younghyun wasn’t ready for-that is to let anyone break down his walls just to see his broken soul.

     Wonpil sticked out his tongue to Sungjin and quickly ran off, pulling Dowoon along with him to leave both the guitarists in the room.

     “Will he ever grow up?” Sungjin asked to no one in particular, gaze still lingering at the spot where Wonpil had been seconds ago.

Younghyun laughed a tiny laughter. “He might if Dowoon learns to pick up a few aegyo or two and starts acting like the maknae.”

     Sungjin sighed. He looked content and Younghyun envied him for it.

     “Anyway,” Sungjin began, reaching into his bag before pulling out pieces of papers, all scribbled with words in black and blue ink, “I want you to have a look at this. See if any of it are useful.”

     “Did you get dumped, hyung?” Younghyun questioned, reading the phrases and verses that were obviously in Sungjin’s handwriting related to heart breaks and unrequited love.

Sungjin gave him a weird look. “I don’t even have a girlfriend.” He stated incredulously. “Those are Jaebum’s. I’ve been listening to him nagging about how they both agreed to give each other some space but he ended up seeing her with another guy when he was on the train.”

     “Damn.” Younghyun half whispered. “How’s he holding up?”

Sungjin took a moment to think before answering with,

“Quite good compared to the last time. He stopped crying to his phone after the first night.” That made Younghyun snort with laugh and he failed to hold it back as Sungjin commented,

     “That’s okay. You can let it out. It’s been a while since you actually smile, Younghyun-ah.” He gave him a knowing look which forced Younghyun to look back at the papers and made it look like he was thinking.

     Sungjin leaned forward and peered at him. “Don’t you want to write again?” He asked, his voice low and soft. “You’re better at this.”

Younghyun shook his head, return the papers to Sungjin before going back to his spot, taking out a water bottle.

     “You know why I stopped.” He told Sungjin, staring nowhere and everywhere. “Besides, I’ve already written enough songs to get us a record label.” He took a gulp from the bottle, relishing to the relieve the liquid gave him.

     “And yet here we are, underground with just enough light to keep us from bumping into Dowoon’s drum set.” Junhyeok suddenly pitched and Younghyun turned to see him leaning on the doorframe, hands in pocket looking hostile. It had always been that way with Junhyeok-no one can touch him unless he lets them.

And he holds everyone in his palm with just one look.

     Junhyeok strolled over to the back of the room where the other two were and asked for the papers Sungjin were holding. He stared at the words, eyebrows scrutinized as if seeing something others couldn’t before he spoke again,

     “I just got off the phone with a bar’s manager.” Junhyeok was still reading the paper as he talked, face devoid of emotions. “He said he’s looking for a gig or two this Friday night. I said yes.”

     “What?” Sungjin frowned, sitting up straighter. “You didn’t even ask if any of us have plans.”

The keyboardist stared at Sungjin looking bored, like he’d been having the same conversation over and over again.

     “We’ve agreed that this summer will be all about the band, didn’t we?” He asked for confirmation, staring hard at the two. The guitarist seemed unperturbed as he answered Junhyeok calmly,

“I know but don’t you think we should all be involved when making decisions? We’ll have better chemistry if everyone gives their part in everything.”

     “Then I suggest you start by letting Wonpil have a look at your songs.” Said Junhyeok, eyes narrowing and tone dismissing. Sungjin bit his lower lips and before he could retort, the sound of footsteps and voices outside their practice room alerted them of Wonpil’s and Dowoon’s return. Younghyun watched as Sungjin snatched the papers from Junhyeok’s hand and kept them back in his bag, face slowly fuming from the latter’s words. The keyboardist simply sauntered to his seat looking unaffected with anything.

     “Let’s eat!” Wonpil exclaimed, arms raised with pastic bags filled with different types of snacks and face bright with enthusiasm that Younghyun knew he lacked of. Dowoon trailed behind the keyboardist, his steps faithful as he set down the plastic bags in his hands. Unlike Wonpil, Dowoon seemed to notice the shift in the air as he stared at Sungjin’s face and then at Junhyeok’s. Younghyun caught his questioning gaze and could only shrug his shoulders as they all gathered in a circle and sat on the floor.

     Neither Sungjin nor Junhyeok brought up their conversation from before and they acted normally, at least in front of the younger ones and Younghyun had learnt to keep his lips sealed when necessary. And that was all it takes for their practice to resume smoothly.

     The sky was already dark when Younghyun walked out of the practice room and to his house. Every step he took he never missed to pray for his father to already be asleep or at least less drunk than the night before. And it made his legs wobble when he thought of the opposite.

He stood outside his house; the one in the corner at the top floor and stared at his father’s car parked by the road side. He waited, ears perked to listen to any noise coming from inside the house. He could see the lights from the living room but that didn’t indicate anything- his father could literally fall asleep anywhere anyhow when he wasn’t sober.

     With a swift turn, Younghyun decided not to test his luck because surprisingly it had been a fun day hanging out with the band and practicing like mad people. His fingers felt warm still from all the strumming and holding the chords. Nope, he could stay away for at least another couple of hours until he was sure he’d go to sleep unhurt.

     That was how he found himself back at the hill sitting by the edge, his guitar bag secure by his side and he was looking out like he did the previous night. Except this time with no tears and urge to end his life.

     “Are you going to try to jump again?”

It didn’t shock Younghyun as much as it did the first time he heard the unfamiliar voice but it still made his heart stammered. His head turned to see the same blonde boy gazing at him through his wire-rimmed glasses that gleamed under the moonlight.

     “Are you going to keep doing that?” questioned Younghyun, eyes narrowed and shoulder less tensed.

Jae visibly blinked. “Do what?” He was standing next to the same tree and was wearing the exact same outfit from yesterday; an oversized grey sweatshirt with a pair of black short pants and sneakers. Younghyun thought that was smart of him.

     “Tricking me, lying to me.” He simply said, refusing to elaborate any further since he was sure they both understood what he meant.

Or at least it seemed so until Jae asked,

     “When did I trick or lie to you?” If it weren’t for the confusion on his pale face Younghyun would’ve cursed at him but then Jae started to ramble on,

     “Although I was a very good roaster, I’d admit that but my mother never taught me to lie so-“

“Who told you about my mother?” asked Younghyun in an accusing tone.

     “What?” Jae gaped at him.

“Is this some kind of a sick joke to you?” Younghyun carried on, getting up to his feet and facing the blonde properly. “Did someone set you up on this? Did the band plan this?”

At some point, he watched as Jae shook his head denying him and he spotted the blur outline that hovered behind the tall blonde.

     “I won’t lie to you, Young-“

“Prove it.” Younghyun quickly said, jaws firm and lips determined to end their conversation. “If you’re really a ghost like you claimed then prove it to me. Otherwise, I’ll call the police.”

     “And tell them what?” It was Jae’s turn to narrow his eyes and frowned. “I saved your life, dude.”

Younghyun’s lips twitched. “I didn’t ask you to.”

     Jae blinked at him a few times, lips hanging unsure what to say or if he should even say something but then his shoulder visibly slumped and his voice was small when he spoke,

“You know what? Fine, I’ll prove it to you.”

And he locked gaze with Younghyun’s as his face turned serene before taking a stance like he was going for a sprint.

     And then he did; cutting through the wind with his long legs and face adorned with the same smile when Younghyun first saw him. He watched as Jae ran passed him and jumped off the cliff, floating for a split moment before falling down to earth.

     He didn’t scream.


	3. Whatever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey there! Thanks for leaving kudos and comments. I know it's been awhile since my last update but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. Happy reading and have a nice day! :)

CHAPTER 3: WHATEVER

     Younghyun felt his bones went rigid at the sight before him. He couldn’t move or scream. Just kept staring at the spot where Jae had fell. He peered down at the pit, seeing nothing but pitch black and waiting for the sound of something landing hard on the ground but it never came. It was only his wildly thumping heart that filled the silence.

     “What are you looking at?” Came Jae’s voice by his side.

“Jesus!” Younghyun half-screamed, hastily taking a step back with eyes wide directed at the blonde. Jae stared at him weirdly.

     “It’s just Jae.” The blonde reprimanded. “I’ve heard people telling me I look a lot like anime characters but never God.”

“H-how did you d-do that?” spluttered Younghyun, looking craze and spooked at the same time.

     “Spirits don’t die twice.” Jae told him as-a-matter-of-factly. “You still think I’m lying?”

Younghyun shook his head forcefully out of fright rather than belief. His arms were locked by his side and he could feel his palms turning clammy due to sweats.

     He gulped. “I-I’ll just- I’ll be on my way then.” Hastily, he scrambled away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” The tone in Jae’s voice made Younghyun ceased his steps and turned to look at the former. He knew that tone; it reminded Younghyun of himself during the first few months after his mother’s funeral. He’d felt lonely then.

     He still does.

It took Younghyun an entire minute to calm his head down and rationalize. A thought crossed his mind and he gave a sudden jerk of his head to look at the ghost.

     “Where is she?”

Jae lifted his head and stared back. “Who?”

Younghyun bit back the urge to snap. “My mother, where is she? You said you met her. Why can’t I see her?”

Jae’s expression shifted and he looked up, gazing at the sky with a faraway stare behind his glasses.

     He said in a low tone, “She was already moving on when we crossed path. I told her where I was going and she said if I ever meet her son, please look after him.”

There was a moment of silence between them, cutting through the summer haze with clarity that Younghyun hate to admit.

“Is that so?” Younghyun’s voice was quiet but his eyes swam with emotions that were trying to resurface. He took a deep breathe and willed his tears away. But his voice wavered when he spoke,

     “She could’ve just find me.”

“I bet she did but you couldn’t see her.” Jae said.

Younghyun frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

     The blonde sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see or hear me. I was surprised the other night but then I actually caught you and I understood something. Your soul was conflicted between life or death and maybe that’s the reason you can see me, talk to me.” He explained.

“What about now?” Younghyun asked further, although something told him that he already knew the answer.

     “You’re still unsure, aren’t you?” It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. Jae leveled his gaze with the other. “You’re alive but you don’t know if you want to.”

Younghyun felt his stomach churned but he didn’t react. Instead he inquired,

     “How did you die?”

He felt rather than heard Jae took a sharp breathe, eyes wide with surprise and lips sealed with secrets. Secrets that weren’t meant for Younghyun to know.

At least not then.

     “Seriously dude?” Jae raised an eyebrow at him before flinging his arms wildly into the air, looking exasperated. “I think it’s time for _me_ to go.” He finally lets out, turned to leave and Younghyun stood silent watching the retreating back of the tall blonde.

     He wondered if he’d hit a spot when he heard from afar,

“Don’t jump! I won’t catch you again!”

Morning came too quickly for Younghyun’s taste as he hurdled himself out of bed for band practice. They had agreed on daily meetings for the sake of the upcoming gig and Younghyun was more than grateful for excuses to stay away from his house when it was school holiday.

     He felt lucky enough that he’d avoided yesterday being entirely out of his father’s radar and he hoped his luck hadn’t ran out.

     He knew he was wrong the moment he stepped out of his room when the smell of cigar hit him with remorse.

     “Where do you think you’re going?” was his morning greeting.

Mr. Kang was perched on a sofa, his cigarette between his index and middle finger while the other was holding what Younghyun suspected to be a cup of old coffee. He wasn’t wearing his security uniform and it made Younghyun wondered if he was fired. He’d only found that job after losing his previous one two months ago.

     “Aren’t you working today?” He asked his father, subconsciously tightening his grip on the strap of his guitar bag.

     “You haven’t answer my question.” replied his father, voice low.

Younghyun tried to not make it obvious as he took small steps towards the front door. “I’m seeing my friends.”

Mr. Kang coughed a puff of smoke. “What’s with the guitar?” He motioned to Younghyun’s bag, neglecting the fact how his son’s knuckles were turning white.

     “Band practice.” He answered curtly and found his shoes at the steps. His feet slipped right in and he was about to bolt through the front door when,

“I didn’t know you started playing again.” Mr. Kang muttered.

     Younghyun felt a pang on his chest for reasons he chose to ignore. “I’m late. I’ll be going now.”

“Younghyun-ah, wait!”

     But he didn’t. He heard the creaked of the furniture and quickly twisted the door knob, hoping to get out of there with no further implications. He was surprised however to see Dowoon standing, waiting for him near his gate. He saw how the maknae’s gaze flicked from him towards his front door.

     “Good morning, Mr. Kang.” Dowoon greeted the figure behind Younghyun, bowing his head a little.

     Younghyun didn’t think any further as he grabbed Dowoon by the elbow and dashed towards their direction, not once letting go of the maknae until his house was out of sight.

“What were you doing in front of my house?” Younghyun questioned him as he released his hand from Dowoon’s elbow.

     “Waiting for you.” Dowoon answered truthfully. “Sungjin-hyung said to go with you because he had somewhere else to go to first.”

“And you listened to him?” Younghyun asked, a tiny smirk creeping its way towards his face when Dowoon nodded earnestly.

     “Of course. I consider you guys like my older brothers.” Dowoon told him with a sheepish smile that made Younghyun reached out and ruffled his hair.

     “Ack, hyung!” Dowoon protested, slapping away Younghyun’s arm before any damage was made permanent.

They walked peacefully to their meeting place, taking the bus and continuing the journey by foot a few miles from the bus stop when Younghyun caught sight of a foreigner with his backpack looking around no doubt on a vacation. What took Younghyun off guard was how the blonde locks reminded him of his encounter on the hill for the past two nights.

     “Dowoon-ah.” He called the maknae.

“Nae, hyung?” came Dowoon’s voice from his side.

     “Do you believe in ghosts?” Younghyun asked straightforwardly, missing the surprise look on Dowoon’s face.

The maknae hesitated for a moment before he said, “Hyung, if this is about your mother…” He trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

Younghyun shook his head a little. “No, it’s not. I mean, partially maybe but no, I’m just asking in general.” He explained, although Younghyun knew Dowoon was still doubting him from the look he got.

     “I just want your opinion on it, that’s all.”

Dowoon raised an eyebrow. “Why the sudden curiosity?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I met one last night?” asked Younghyun, feeling sweats forming on his palms at his own words. How did he got so vocal was beyond his thinking at that moment. He felt rather than heard Dowoon’s sharp intake of breathe before the latter spoke,

     “Are you serious, hyung? How did it look like?” Dowoon asked, curious and anxious all the same.

Younghyun pursed his lips before he answered the maknae,

“He looked like a boy, our age or maybe older.”

     “Are you sure he’s not doing a prank on you or something?” Dowoon peered at him, looking sincerely worried and Younghyun shut the affection he felt knocking on his walls.

     “That’s what I thought too.” Younghyun muttered, all of a sudden feeling ridiculous at himself. He’d seen it as a trick, a childish joke that someone decided to pull on him seeing he was trying to commit suicide.

     But how can he explain the jump? And the part where Jae reappeared right next him?

“Be careful, hyung.” Dowoon’s voice brought him back to earth. “Even if it is a spirit, nothing good can come from it.” He said, tone filled with warning.

     “What do you mean?” inquired Younghyun.

Dowoon sighed, eyes diverting all over the place as if to ensure they weren’t being followed or heard.

“People who died and turns into ghost are vengeful spirits.” The maknae whispered, making his voice even lower than it already was. “My mum told me and my noona about it when we were little. She said there’s always a reason why the ghosts stay among the living.”

     And then Younghyun remembered Jae’s words about going somewhere, pondering on where it could be or what he aimed to do when the sight of their practice room came into view. The maknae unlocked the door and Younghyun found where he belongs.

     “Where is everyone?” Dowoon’s inquiry was greeted by an empty space as the two entered the room. Younghyun walked to his spot, putting down his guitar bag and taking out his bass. He plugged the amplifiers in, strummed a chord and listened as the vibrations filled the room.

“Should we warm up first, hyung?” Dowoon asked, already seated around his drum set and sticks in hands. Younghyun merely nodded.

Twenty-minutes into their duet warm-up the door to their practice room opened to revealed a rather dishevelled Sungjin.

     “Hey, guys.” He breathed out, looking slightly puffed. “Sorry I’m late.” The guitarist sauntered across the room to reach to the two when he noticed something.

     “Where are the others?” He questioned.

“Wonpil’s on his way but we couldn’t reach Junhyeok.” Younghyun said.

Dowoon nodded his head. “We’ve called him a few times but it went straight to voicemail.”

     “What’s up with him?” Sungjin muttered, hands busy assembling his guitar and tuning the strings.

“Where were you from, hyung?” inquired Dowoon.

Sungjin lifted his head and blinked at him. “The hospital.”

Younghyun’s eyes went round. “Is someone sick?”

“Who’s hurt?”

     Both the bassist and the drummer asked at the same time.

A sigh escaped Sungjin’s lips. He scratched the side of his head lightly before saying,

     “It’s my cousin. Well, second cousin actually. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to tell anyone about this.”

“It’s okay if you don’t.” Younghyun told him, knowing well how some things are better kept hidden.

     But Sungjin smiled at him and waved it away.

“It’s fine.” He said. “Although I might be spending some time at the hospital to accompany my mother. She’s taking care of my cousin.”

He plucked a string on his guitar and the note echoed. Younghyun was suddenly reminded of a time when his mother was alive and how she would listened to him playing a song.

     “That’s okay, hyung.” Dowoon answered. “At least we know where to find you.”

“What about your cousin’s parents?” asked Younghyun, realizing too late that his question might’ve been personal. He quickly added,

     “Sorry, hyung. Didn’t mean to pry.”

Sungjin shook his head goodnaturedly. “I’ll share with you guys the whole story when things are better. Right now, let’s play some music shall we?”

It made Younghyun internally smiled at Sungjin’s words and he noticed how Dowoon’s face lit up as well.

     “Let’s.” He breathed out and there was a knock on the door.

They all turned to see Wonpil standing under the doorframe, hands by his side and face filled with worry.

     “Wonpil-ah?” Sungjin called out. The younger strolled over to them and up close, Younghyun caught sight of the unshed tears in Wonpil’s round eyes.

     “What’s wrong?” Dowoon’s voice sounded alert. “What’s wrong, Pil-hyung?” He’d come closer to the vocalist and had one hand on his shoulder.

     Wonpil sniffed, blinked his eyes and let his tears fell. His lips was trembling when he spoke,

     “I-It’s Ju-junhyeok-hyung.”

It pained Younghyun in a way to see someone crying in the presence of others. He’d always perceived the presence of tears as something sacred; an act of privacy and having it being witnessed was like striping himself nude in public.

     And he’d done it in front of a ghost.

“What’s wrong with Junhyeok-hyung? Where is he?” Dowoon’s low tone was cooing for the vocalist to explain the situation and Younghyun sent a glance towards Sungjin’s direction. He got a worried frown in return.

     All eyes were trained on Wonpil as they waited for him to speak. But what they didn’t expect were the words that Wonpil let out.

     Wonpil had cried out,

     “Junhyeok-hyung’s gone. He left.”


	4. I Need Somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thanks for the kudos. I hope you enjoy reading this update. Have a nice day! :)

“What do you mean _he left_?” Sungjin’s voice reverberated through the walls, reflecting his uprising rage and many thing else.

     After having a moment of recovery from Wonpil’s shocking news, Younghyun found himself seated around Dowoon’s drum set with the sticks in his hands. He was playing a beat softly, his face slacked and were listening as the eldest interrogated the second youngest.

     “Wonpil, what did he tell you?” Sungjin pressed on and Dowoon could only glanced between the two with a crease forming on his forehead.

Wonpil took a deep breathe. “He texted me early this morning. Then I called him and he said to carry on without him. Said that he’s in Tokyo.” Younghyun could still see the tear stains on Wonpil’s face. He thought it shouldn’t be there, ever.

     “I thought he was joking, hyung.” Wonpil laughed a little but his voice caught and his round eyes turned glassy once again. Younghyun kept his stare on the cymbals.

“I thought after all this, he would at least give us a proper goodbye.” muttered Wonpil.

     Sungjin sighed heavily. “We all know what he’s like. It’s been his dream to become a trainee and debut.”

     “But Japan?” Dowoon cut in for the first time and Younghyun saw the anger flickered in and out from the maknae’s eyes. “He could’ve told us yesterday before we all went home.”

Then silence.

     Until,

“Younghyun-ah, don’t you want to say something about this?” Younghyun stared at the rest of his band. Sungjin’s face was still taunt with conflicts and Younghyun could imagine the turmoil building inside Wonpil at his silence.

     So he chose to say,

“I’ve never liked Junhyeok-hyung. Not really.” It was partially true. The keyboardist had been the last one to join the group and Younghyun saw the reluctance in him whenever they performed together. He wanted to shine but he didn’t want to share. That was why when Sungjin had decided to form the band, Younghyun had left out Junhyeok’s name in purpose hoping they would find someone else.

     Younghyun had known him the longest but they weren’t technically friends. They went to middle school together and met again halfway through high school. And after his mother died, Junhyeok had somehow sticked around longer when the band members were together and it gave Younghyun a sense of familiarity with him.

     That was until Junhyeok started to miss their practices and would prioritized his phone calls more during reherseals. It began to annoy the rest of the band members but the only one who called him out was Sungjin. Younghyun knew better than to trust anyone simply out of their presence then.

     “Hyung…” Dowoon’s face was a written surprised. Younghyun quickly laughed him off,

     “It’s okay, Dowoon-ah. I know he doesn’t like me as well.”

Wonpil looked up at the bassist then. “I like you, Younghyun-hyung.” He smiled, his words dripping with honesty that it made Younghyun’s face went hot all of a sudden. He just hoped the colour didn’t rise as well.

     “T-thanks, Wonpil-ah.” He stammered.

“So I guess it’s just us now.” stated Sungjin, a hint of sadness in his voice as he glanced over at Junhyeok’s spot, his keyboard placed on the stand looking lonelier than ever. It made the rest of them stared as well.

     “How are we supposed to perform for tomorrow’s gig?” Dowoon asked to no one in particular but it made them pondered on his question. “Can we leave out the keyboard?” He asked further, looking at Younghyun.

     The bassist shrugged. “I don’t mind missing an instrument.”

A slap was sent towards Dowoon, hitting him from behind his head.

     “Ouch!” He shrieked, hand reaching up to his head as he turned to Sungjin. “Hyung, what was that for?!”

     “Have you forgotten one thing?” The guitarist asked, eyebrow quirked at the maknae.

“What?” Dowoon questioned, looking clueless.

Sungjin motioned at the keyboard with his head. “Where do you think Junhyeok got his keyboard from?”

     It took Dowoon a second to get the answer. “From the music shop.” He stated dumbly.

     “And?” Younghyun coaxed on, knowing exactly what Sungjin was trying to say. Wonpil was already struggling to hide his smile.

“And what hyung?” Dowoon blinked at him, his face all innocent just like him.

     “Who owns the shop, Dowoon-ah?” Sungjin pressed on, his lips drawing a thin line.

     “Wonpil’s family does.” He answered, belatedly realising what it meant. His eyes widened just as the fact hit him.

     “Wonpil-hyung can play the keyboard for us.” He breathed out.

“Hyung.” He turned to Younghyun then. “There’s no need to leave out the keyboard, hyung. Wonpil-hyung knows how to play it.”

It had been a while since Younghyun laughed his heart out. And he did.

     It hurt less than he expected it to.

Wonpil stood up then and sauntered to the keyboard, his fingers lightly tracing the bars of black and white when he spoke,

     “But we still have a problem.”

It made Sungjin frowned. “What is it?”

Wonpil sighed heavily. “I can’t play _and_ sing at the same time.” He announced.

“Why?” Younghyun asked and he was somehow hoping that Wonpil was joking. Apparently he wasn’t.

     “I tend to forget lyrics when I’m on the instrument. Why do you think I only volunteered for singing in the band?” The round-eyed explained, face showing nothing but seriousness.

     “And all this while I thought you were being humble, hyung.” Dowoon tsked. “Just wow.”

Wonpil pouted at him. “I did think it was unfair if I do both at the same time.”

     “Alright, alright. We get it.” Sungjin interrupted. “Let’s just divide the parts then, is that okay?” He inquired, looking at Younghyun for response.

     The bassist quickly shook his head at the oldest, staring him dead in the eyes as he told him,

     “I don’t sing.” At least not in front of people, was what he didn’t tell them. He saw how the thoughts crossed their minds as well.

It made Sungjin sighed even more. “Fine. Then it’s just me and Wonpil.” He clarified, looking at the vocalist for agreement. Wonpil nodded, although his eyes held more than just plain acceptance. They divided the parts and Younghyun stared solemnly at the lyrics he knew too well, wondering when will he find the courage to stop being the way he was.

     He listened as Sungjin’s voice adjusted with the words as he held his bass a tad tighter that day. He thought it sounded great; how the now two vocalists could match up their harmonies within minutes, something he could do within seconds as well if he wasn’t too afraid to be heard again.

     But Younghyun had learned it the hard way; that not all dreams are meant to come true.

     The last thing Younghyun had expected to see was someone standing in his room when he returned from home. He’d make sure that his father wasn’t around before he entered through the front door and there were no sign of any of the neighbourhood ahjummas trespassing their property just to send them some side dishes like they used to after his mother died.

“Yo.” Jae’s voice greeted him.

     Younghyun felt oddly out of place; perhaps it was _his_ room and he rarely had anyone coming over to his place or maybe it was Jae’s presence itself- void of the night sky and dry summer air. It was then bright with the afternoon sun and they were both standing under the still-holding-on-roof with smaller space compared to the vast expanse of the hill.

     “How’d you get in here?” Younghyun questioned, legs still rooted at the door and face turning into confusion. Jae pointed his finger at Younghyun’s direction, seeing something behind him as he said nonchalantly,

     “Through the front door.”

“O-kay.” Younghyun drawled out, hesitant whether he should walk in or not. “I should probably call the police.”

     “Because there’s a ghost in your room?” Jae quirked his eyebrow, arms crossing over his none-existent chest and Younghyun thought he’d never met anyone so skinny before.

     “Because said ghost intruded my house.” Younghyun countered, feeling defeated once he saw the blurry edge casted over Jae’s outline. “And I’m crazier than I was yesterday.” He muttered tiredly.

Jae stared at him.

     “What?” Younghyun asked, feeling insecure for no reason.

The blonde tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. It made Younghyun noticed the slightly scratched lens.

     “You don’t look like someone who knows how to play guitar.” Jae told him with no pretence in his voice. It made Younghyun unconsciously fixed the strap on his shoulder.

     “Well you don’t look like a ghost yourself yet here you are.” Younghyun glared at him, then blinked. He asked,

     “ _Why_ are you here?” He found the courage to step into his own room and put his guitar bag down by the side, leaning effortlessly on the wall as he stared back at the blonde.

Jae simply smiled. “I was bored.” He said, walking casually towards Younghyun’s unmade bed and flopping down onto it, his long legs hanging off by the side.

     “Don’t you have like a spirit club or something where you meet up with other spirits and make friends?” Younghyun crossed his arms over his chest, wondering why was he supposed to entertain a dead soul when the reverberating echo of music played at the back of his mind.

Jae chuckled softly and Younghyun could detect the sarcasm in them.

     “You really know how to start a conversation, don’t you?” Jae rolled over on the bed and lied on his stomach.

Younghyun shrugged. “I’ve never been on a talking term with a dead person before.”

“That explains it.” Jae mumbled, resting his chin on the back of his hands. “But what if I wasn’t dead?”

Younghyun frowned. “Then I would definitely call the police.”

Jae jerked his head up. “What’s up with you and the police? Please don’t tell me your dad’s a cop.” He said.

Younghyun shook his head and at the word ‘dad’, he reclined from his position, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees.

     “Cops are way better than him.” He muttered, head hanging low and he didn’t see the look that crossed Jae’s face. The only thing in his mind was how he missed his mother’s gentle touch that used to caress his hair whenever he kept his head down.

“You don’t know that.” Jae mumbled from the bed, eyes lazily scanning Younghyun’s crouched form. “Things were way better back then, weren’t it?”

     Younghyun shook his head and looked up, his eyes reflecting the shadows from the past.

He said, “There’s no use thinking about the past.” He lied. “It’ll just mess your head up with false hope.”

     Jae blinked. “How so?”

Younghyun sighed and locked eyes with the blonde.

     “Don’t you wish you were still alive?”

There was a long silence that followed Younghyun’s sentence as Jae promptly shut his eyes and frowned. After a while, the blonde slowly propped himself up and sat crossed leg on the bed.

     He softly whispered, “There are things, that however we fight to understand will still slip away. But that doesn’t mean we should give it up.”

     “There’s nothing to lose if you don’t gamble anything in the first place.” Younghyun countered. “You’ll only get hurt yourself.”

Jae’s frown melt away then. “We can’t help but get hurt.” He spoke, fingers interlaced in his lap.

     “Why are you still here? Why aren’t you moving on like my mother did?” asked Younghyun. He got up from his spot and took a brave step over to his bed. But that was his limit; he didn’t have the courage to actually sit down on the mattress. He couldn’t decide why though.

     From his standing position, the blonde had to look up at him when he spoke,

     “Do you want me gone?”

Something along the words made Younghyun shivered unknowingly and he thought he saw his own reflection in Jae’s eyes. Must be the glasses, he thought.

     Younghyun tried to look nonchalant and he knew he failed when Jae’s eyes were still tight on him.

     “I’m just curious.” He confessed. “You saved me from dying so basically you’ve done your part.”

     “Have I?” Jae half-whispered, one hand holding his chin making him look like he was thinking. It made Younghyun wondered on something he’d mused earlier that day.

     So he voiced out,

     “You said you were going somewhere, that when you met my mother you were on your way there. Where is ‘there’?”

A tired sigh escaped Jae’s lips and Younghyun waited patiently for his respond.

     But when Jae opened his mouth to answer him, Younghyun could feel rather than hear the slight change in Jae’s tone.

The blonde said, “My house. I wanted to go to my house.” He brought his head up and looked straight in Younghyun’s eyes, “Maybe you can come with me.”

It made Younghyun’s slitted eyes went round. “Why would I go with you?”

     Jae gave him a thoughtful look. “Cuz you owe me that much. Now let me sleep, will you? I’m dead tired.” said Jae with a tiny laugh at the end of his speech. He laid down onto the mattress once again and Younghyun was a beat late to react.

     “Why do you have to sleep HERE? THIS IS MY BED. You’re dead and you still feel tired?!” Younghyun knew he was practically screaming but he didn’t care.

     That was until a small voice from the door behind him made Younghyun spun on his heel. Wonpil was looking at him weirdly as he asked, “Who are you talking to, hyung?”


	5. I Will Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I apologize for the late update. Leave me your comments and thanks for the kudos. Happy reading! <3

“I’m not sick, Wonpil-ah.” Younghyun said, staring back at the guy who was standing facing him and scrutinizing him under his rounded gaze as he sat on his bed which was was then ghostless. Jae had disappeared a few seconds after Wonpil had frantically reached out for Younghyun, hands firm on the taller’s shoulders as he inspected him.

     “Then why were you talking on your own?” Wonpil asked for the umptenth times and he placed his hands on his hip, trying to look even more dramatic. Younghyun somehow envied the smaller guy for his effortless gesture to keep things within theatre standards.

Instead, the bassist let out a sigh and clicked his tongue, “I was on the phone.” He said calmly.

Wonpil’s eyes then travelled to the gadget in Younghyun’s grip and his eyes narrowed. “With who, hyung?”

Younghyun made a look on his face. “You’re being rude.” He stated to Wonpil.

     “I’m just being concerned.” Wonpil countered, eyes returning round and slightly taken aback by Younghyun’s respond.

     So he addded, “I came to your house and find you alone in your room but it sounded like you were fighting with someone, hyung. And you were saying something about being dead and tired. It sounded as if you were talking to a ghost.”

     Younghyun quirked his eyebrows. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”

Wonpil blinked. “Was what?”

“Talking to a ghost.”

     “You’re scaring me, hyung.” Wonpil visibly gulped. “You’re not on drugs, are you?”

Reflexively, Younghyun’s hand reached out to grab a pillow and threw it in Wonpil’s face.

     “Hey!” Wonpil lets out, failing to block the assault and was rewarded with a small chuckle. Only then did Younghyun wondered why had Wonpil came to see him.

     “You left this behind.” Wonpil told him as he took something out from his pocket and when he handed it over to the bassist, Younghyun recognized it as his guitar pick.

     “Where did you find it?”

“On the floor. Must’ve dropped it.” Wonpil said, eyeing Younghyun’s movement as the bassist stood up and walked over to the bedside table. He opened the drawer and dropped the pick inside without a second glance.

     “Thanks.” He muttered, pushing the drawer close. “You could’ve just waited until tomorrow to return it to me. You know I don’t play in the house.” At least not anymore.

     The vocalist-slash-keyboardist somewhat nodded his head. “I know. I was hoping to change your mind about the gig tomorrow.” Wonpil bit his lips, hands secured in his pocket looking unsure.

     “About what exactly?” inquired Younghyun, although they both knew what the shorter one meant.

“It’s your song, Younghyun-hyung. It’ll sound a thousand times better if you sing it.” Wonpil’s voice once again dripped with too much honesty it made Younghyun looked away.

     “The songs I wrote are for the band.” Younghyun claimed. “I wrote them for your voice, Wonpil-ah.”

     “But I don’t get them the way you do!” He interjected, pulling his hands out from his pockets  and showing his palms to the bassist.

“Your voice, hyung. Don’t you want to be heard?”

The sound of birds chirping from the outside accompanied Wonpil’s unanswered question. Younghyun gave in to the silence and let his mind rewind on their practice.

     True; he’d wanted to be heard. Younghyun had dreamt for many things but that was all in the past when his life was not perfect but great still and his mother was always smiling at him.

     But it all went away like a moth caught in the thunderstorm. So fragile so vain.

He sighed, wondering why lately he’d been thinking about the past so easily. He used to block them away with no mercy.

     “I just don’t feel like singing anymore, Wonpil. That’s why I trust you with my songs. Because I know you care.” He told him.

Wonpil stared at him. “We all care about you, Younghyun-hyung.”

     With that, Wonpil turned around and walked out from Younghyun’s room, leaving the bassist alone in the house. The abrupt end to their conversation and Wonpil’s sudden departure made Younghyun questioned whether he’d said something wrong but then again, it was Wonpil he was talking to. The guy was as unpredictable as the storm.

     “So you write songs as well, huh?”

Jae’s voice didn’t shocked Younghyun as much as it did the first time they met but it still felt foreign. At least to one of them.

     “You’ve been eavesdropping.” Younghyun stated, not looking at the ghost standing under his doorframe. “Why’d you left in the first place?”

Jae seemed amused. “I didn’t. I just thought you didn’t want to be interrupted, that’s all.”

     Younghyun let himself fall backward onto the mattress and rest his arm over his eyes. He told Jae,

     “I’m alive _and_ tired. So if you don’t mind, I’d like some peace.” When there was no respond from the other end, Younghyun thought he was finally alone. He let himself drift into oblivion and welcomed the slumber that caught up with exhaustion.

     But then,

“One last thing before I go.” Jae’s voice crushed whatever serenity left in the place and Younghyun jolt upright, eyes shooting laser to the ghost hoping somehow it would burn the blonde.

     “WHAT?” He grumbled.

“You didn’t drop it, did you? You meant to throw it away.” Jae wasn’t asking and they both knew it.

     “The pick.”

The gig that Junhyeok had landed them was nothing out of the usual; three slots for three different songs at one of the cafes they’ve performed before. This particular one was Sungjin’s favourite because it just so happened that his crush was part-timing as a waitress there and he got to show off, kind of. Not that he ever said that but the rest of the band knew the stretch marks on his face whenever he smiled at her were more than friendly gestures.

     “You’re going to split your lips if you don’t stop smiling, hyung.” Wonpil reprimanded him as they were setting up the instruments by the side of their mini stage. Sungjin’s head whipped to the side, away from the counter area and staring straight at the second youngest.

     “Don’t be ridiculous, Wonpil-ah.” He waved him off. “I’m just thankful we get to perform. Yup, that’s it.” He said more to himself, convincing no one.

“Hyung,” Dowoon cut in, drumsticks between his fingers and braces shining under the café light. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot from the moment she smiled at you when we walked in. Why won’t you just ask for her number?” Dowoon stared at him, perplexity showing at the thought of his hyung acting like a lost boy in front of a mere girl. He gave their bassist a knowing look by the side and got a lazy shrug in return.

     “I have not!” Sungjin retorted. “Besides, she’s new here. I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by straightforwardly asking for her contact. That’s creepy.”

The rest of the band members snorted. It made Sungjin’s frown grew deeper.

     “Sungjin-hyung,” Younghyun finally joined in the conversation, one hand holding his bass and the other gently placed on Sungjin’s shoulder as he looked at him with a small smie, “Just admit it. You’re whipped.”

Sungjin quirked his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “The manager’s giving a green light.” Dowoon suddenly said. “Let’s go.”

Wonpil wasted no time as he hurried to their small platform and sat behind the keyboard. The others took their spot as well and Younghyun couldn’t help but think how pristine they would look like if they were to actually debut one day under a company. He hid the sudden ecstasy of his own thought behind the secured bass in his grip and watched as Wonpil played his charm.

     “Good evening, everyone.” He greeted the audiences which comprised of adults going home from work but needed their dose of caffeine and some scholars crashing their summer with assignments lurking at the corner. Sungjin played the first note and his attention went to the music wholly as the lyrics came out in the form of melody from Wonpil’s parted lips.

     Younghyun liked it; he knew he could never find something other than performing to replace the excitement he felt whenever his bass was accompanied by Dowoon’s drum or Sungjin’s strumming or Wonpil’s singing. He just hoped that the feeling would stay.

At one point, he lost track of time and they were down to their last song and surprisingly, the number of bodies in the café grew by ten.

     ‘It’s summer.’ Younghyun reminded himself, searching for the other members’ face to see if they noticed the same thing. One look from Sungjin told him they were on the same track. And for some reason it made them played extra hard that night.

     And unconsciously Younghyun’s lips moved with the lyrics. He didn’t make a sound but it was enough for Dowoon to witness and tease him about it once they were done performing.

     Choruses of calm applause ended their high but the adrenaline lingered. Younghyun could still feel the twitching of his fingers telling him to grab his bass and carried on performing but the café had to close. The manager approached them with familiarity and her ever warm smile.

     “Good job, boys.” She greeted them when they got off the platform. “Tell me if I’m wrong but I remembered hiring five of you last summer. Where did the other go?” Miss Lim, the café manager asked. She was looking expectantly at the rest of the group that it forced Younghyun to look away.

     He locked eyes with a familiar blonde standing outside the café.

     “Junhyeok’s spending his summer with his family. He wanted some quality time with his siblings.” Sungjin hastily answered although his voice remained calm. It was his accent that gave away his inner thoughts, Younghyun discerned quietly.

Miss Lee had a curious look on her face. She looked from Sungjin to Wonpil and Dowoon, letting her gaze settled on Younghyun for a second longer before saying,

     “He didn’t tell me about that on the phone.” She took something out from her pocket and handed it to the leader. It was a small envelope with her initials written on the front, their first paycheck for the holiday.

     “It was quite an act even with one member less.” Miss Lee told them, her smile growing solid and pleasant. “I hope the next time I call you’d have a band title by then?”

      “Next time?” Wonpil breathed out, eyes bulging with surprise.

The manager laughed. “It is only the beginning of summer, isn’t it? And who knows, by the time school reopens I have already listened to each of you singing.” She turned on her heel and walked away from the band.

     “We need a title for ourselves.” Came Dowoon’s low-pitched but excited statement. Wonpil nodded in agreement while his head was still trying to make sense of the manager’s words.

     “We should make one soon.” He encouraged, looking expectantly at their leader. Sungjin however had his eyes locked on someone else.

“Are you listening, hyung?” Wonpil nudged him by his shoulder and that made the leader focused back on the band.

     “It’s rude to stare, Sungjin-hyung.” Dowoon reprimanded when he realized what Sungjin had been doing.

The oldest cleared his throat. “Good job, guys. We should leaave, they’re closing the place.”

     “We were waiting for you, hyung.” Younghyun told him with a look on his face that made Sungjin regained his mind back and led the way out.

     “Wait.” Wonpil called him out when they were out the door. “Aren’t you going to ask for her number?”

     Each of them saw how Sungjin’s gaze fleeted over to the inside of the café once again, no doubt eyeing the petite waitress who was cleaning up by the counter and had sent him a small smile when they walked out the premise.

The leader sighed. “There’ll be next time.” He reassured them.

Dowoon took that as a sign of comfort needed so he slung an arm over Sungjin’s shoulder, giving a slight tug as he said,

     “Don’t worry, hyung. We’re right behind you if you need us.”

Wonpil chimed in then, beaming his gummy smile and pulling Younghyun by his side as he linked their arms together.

     He cheerfully quipped in, “As of now, we’re officially spending the summer together. And no one’s leaving or I’ll kill you with my own hands.” Wonpil threatened, still smiling.

     “Are you planning on killing Junhyeok-hyung?” Dowoon asked in plain curiosity it made Younghyun’s head fell backward as he laughed.

Wonpil seemed to actually consider the maknae’s question. “If he returns, then I might.” He told them seriously.

A soft whipping of summer breeze made the boys slightly shivered but they paid no attention to it as they walked home feeling content with themselves for once.

     “Those are your songs, aren’t they?” Jae asked out of nowhere and Younghyun thought he could get used to it. He nodded softly and spoke almost quietly,

     “I used to write lyrics when my mum was still around. It gave me a sense of purpose when studying became too much. Like an escape.”

Jae sighed then. “An escape.” He repeated. The taller guy was standing near Younghyun’s window, perched on the small area as he watched Younghyun settled down on his bed.

     “Is it just from studying or is there something more to it?” Jae stared at him. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Younghyun shrugged. “It used to be just reading and revising.”

“What about now? Are you done escaping or are you still en route?” The blonde thrummed his fingers on the glass, looking outside and Younghyun found himself holding back his breath from the question.

     He looked down onto his hands, examining his fingers and contemplating his words.

     “I don’t know.” He truthfully admits, eyes seeing past Jae’s shoulders as he buried himself in his pillows. He heard the taller guy somewhat chuckled and Younghyun wanted to ask what was the joke but he found himself lazily staring at Jae’s form. He thought he was starting to like the other’s presence, maybe a little bit. And Younghyun still tell himself that he was going crazy.

Jae’s subtle voice cut him off his thoughts.

     “I’ll take that as a yes.”


	6. I'll Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. It's short but it's an update. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, dear readers. I'll reply them once I get the chance. Until then, have a nice time reading and enjoy life! :)

CHAPTER 6: I’LL REMEMBER

     There was something about how things are shifting and Younghyun falling perfectly into places (not literally) were making him feel edgy, almost visualizing himself to be a part of a sketchy holiday plan that was progressing surprisingly beneficial on his part. He wouldn’t say it out loud in case he jinxed it, seeing as he was having a new invinsible only-he-could-see companion to have small talks with.

     And that was another peculiarity for Younghyun’s like.

“Going out tonight?”

Jae never bothered with the greetings, not that he had the first time they met and Younghyun subconsciously preferred it that way. He didn’t feel oblige to immediately answer or respond to the other guy but that was what he actually did.

     He talked.

     “Any reason why I should tell you?” Younghyun peeled off his gaze from his phone screen to shot a look at the blonde. They were yet again in Younghyun’s room, the bassist lounging in his chair near his study table and Jae having just walked in through the closed door and flopping onto the bed.

     “Nope. It’s none of my business, really.” The blonde shot back, lying on his stomach with half his legs hanging from the bed. Younghyun quietly envied his long stature.

     “And you managed to show up at every gig we’ve performed so far.” Younghyun pointed out, putting away his gadget. A couple of weeks into summer and the band were unexpectedly getting more offers, landing a number of requests from neighbouring bars and even for events, gathering and such. He almost wondered whether it was due to the ghost’s presence or something else.

     And the tone in Jae’s voice made him suspect it was the former.

     “I just happened to be nearby.”

_If he was alive,_ Younghyun wanted to say but cut himself short. He’d learned over time through conversing with the taller guy and observing the smallest details, such as the change in his facial expressions along with the not-so-subtle tone whenever the mention of him being dead or still among the living but not quite alive was made, there would also be a shift in the air around them.

     It was like the universe didn’t want Younghyun to keep on reminding the ghost that he was in fact a ghost.

It was both easy and hard for Younghyun; easy as he didn’t really have anyone to share about it with, not his band members seeing how they were constantly spending most of the time together and Younghyun didn’t want them to think he was losing his mind, and difficult on the part that he had to keep telling himself that _he_ w _asn’t losing his mind._

     “Why do you-“

“Younghyun-ah!”

The call of his name left Jae’s question hanging as Younghyun’s head turned to the sound and stared at the door. He put a finger to his mouth, belatedly realizing that they were both quiet as he listened for his father’s voice when Jae spoke,

     “No one can hear me, you know? Except for you.”

Younghyun’s eyebrow twitched. He ignored the ghost, his ears searching for any further noises coming from outside.

     A knock echoed on his door followed by a soft,

     “Younghyun-ah, are you in there?”

Younghyun’s eyes flickered back and forth between Jae and the door, a silent inquiry fleeting through his gaze which only received a shrug from the ghost. Younghyun got up from his chair and walked to the door, not forgetting to leave a light smack on the back of Jae’s head. The ghost shrieked and Younghyun thought it sounded cute, just like him.

     “What is it?” He asked, voice calm as he swung the door opened and met his father’s eyes. It had been days since he last saw his father and certainly it had been months since Younghyun saw him sober.

     And he was, right then. Younghyun could tell because he didn’t reek of alcohol for once and his hair had been combed and his shirt was fully buttoned and his eyes, his eyes were seeing looking at him after so long.

     Younghyun wanted to ask what had changed but he kept his mouth shut.

     “Hey.” Mr. Kang breathed out. “You alright in there?”

Younghyun blinked. “Yeah.” He nodded. “You need anything?”

“No.” Mr. Kang shook his head, his eyes fleeting hesitantly and Younghyun was growing curious. “I’m just…I haven’t seen you all week.”

     “Oh.” Was Younghyun’s single reply as he stared at the man standing in front him.

Mr. Kang cleared his throat, something in his composure changed as he fixed his uniform. He said,

     “It’s my turn for night shift. You stay safe, okay?”

Younghyun watched as his father turned and walked out from the house, the sound of car engine following suit of his departure a couple of minutes later and he shut the door behind him.

     Jae spoke then.

“He’s sober. That’s something new.”

     Younghyun shook his head. “He’ll just drink, get drunk again and nothing changes.”

     “Or maybe he won’t.” Jae murmured loud enough for Younghyun to hear him. “Maybe this time it’ll get better.”

_Maybe._ The word itself warned Younghyun of unsure probabilities so he pushed it away and instead responded with,

     “I can’t hate him, I wonder why.”

The blonde shifted on the bed, sitting up with his elbows supporting his upper half and Younghyun noted that the bed didn’t creak. It never made a sound when Jae was on it and Younghyun mused on the fact that even if the other guy was real, he doubted the bed would screech due to his skinny frame.

     “Because the good things made a part of who you are.” Jae said.

     “What?” Younghyun blinked, face confused.

Jae snorted. “Never mind. You’ll get it later. Come here.” He motioned with his hand and Younghyun’s eyes never fail to linger on the blur outline of Jae with the tint of glowy pastel. It reminded him of something.

Someone.

     His mother.

He walked over to the ghost, arms lazy by his side and made a mental note to himself not to do it again; wilingly following Jae’s command.

     “What? Want me to hit you again?” Younghyun glared at him although he knew the effect had lessen. He just didn’t know since when.

     Jae smacked his lips. “That was rude.” He stated.

Younghyun made a face at him but Jae turned everything into serious mode when he said,

     “You touched me. No one can touch me.”

“I thought we’ve established that part when you saved me.” And the memory of that night came rushing back to Younghyun like a lost fragment. It felt so bizarre thinking, remembering how he’d wanted nothing but to just end his life and seeing as how things were right then for him made him partially relieved he didn’t die that day.

     “I know.” Jae quickly answered and for the first time Younghyun caught the irritation in his voice. For some reason, it made Younghyun tread with cautious.

     “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, voice low.

Jae’s head snapped up and the bassist watched as the blonde’s face went from confused to perceiving, realization dawning in his small eyes.

     The ghost’s lips parted as he spoke,

“What makes you think something _is_ wrong?” Jae smirked and Younghyun knew too late that he’d showed too much in that short span second.

“Are you starting to care, Hyun-ssi?” The ghost teased and not for the first time, a pillow was sent flying through the room and went past the ghost.

     Younghyun never denied him.

Dowoon watched quietly as the black-haired next him sneakily took a sip from his drink, oblivious that the drummer was looking straight at him. He kept his mouth drawn into a thin line, eyes lazily scanning the other’s face when their eyes met.

     Wonpil sheepishly smiled that smile of him and Dowoon felt himself being healed all over.

     “You can try mine if you want.” Wonpil told him and extended his drink to the drummer who shook his head.

     “You know I don’t like green tea flavour.” Dowoon muttered.

“Owh.” Wonpil breathed out, his cup of matcha milk tea left hanging between them and the sparks Dowoon easily catches in his eyes somewhat dimmed.

The drummer cursed internally before grabbing the green-coloured drink and unhesitantly placed the straw in his mouth, calmly sipping the liquid. And Wonpil’s eye smile returned.

     Both their heads turned when the door to their practice room opened and their bassist walked in with a gesture of his head.

     “Where’s Sungjin-hyung?” He asked, walking over to the two and putting down his guitar.

“He just got back from the hospital.” Dowoon informed him. “His on his way. He had to get his guitar from his house.”

     “Want some, hyung?” Wonpil chimed in, arms stretching his drink which he grabbed from Dowoon’s hand towards the bassist. Dowoon stared at the keyboardist, the same expression he gave Dowoon was plastered on his face as he looked expectantly at Younghyun.

     “No thanks, Pilie.” Younghyun told him, taking a seat next to the drummer and stealing glances at the maknae. Wonpil pouted at him and bit on his straw mumbling out,

     “Your lost.” His phone rang then and Wonpil quickly stood up before excusing himself to answer the call. Younghyun saw the look on Dowoon’s face as he gazed at the retreating back view of Wonpil.

     He cleared his throat. “You can’t keep this up, you know. Might as well just tell him.” Younghyun spoke softly.

Dowoon answered with a sigh of his. “I’ll be putting our teamwork on the line.”

     “You’ve known each other way before Sungjin created this band, Dowoon-ah.” Younghyun stared at him. “You guys are practically best friends.”

     “And that’s where the bigger problem lies.” said Dowoon, his eyes downcasted. “I like Wonpil-hyung, I really do. But then he likes everyone.” He confessed, fingers clutched together wringing out whatever courage he was trying to summon.

Younghyun tsked. “He’s just nice like that.”

     Dowoon smiled then, and Younghyun saw how forced it was that it reminded him of Jae’s.

Wonpil’s return ended their reverie and soon after, Sungjin arrived looking like he’d just ran a mile.

     Younghyun told him, “You didn’t have to rush. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Sorry. My mum got held back on her business so I had to stay a while longer.” Sungjin explained in gasps, still trying to catch his breath.

     “That’s okay.” Wonpil told him, giving a pat on Sungjin’s back and for the third time that day, the matcha milk tea was offered from Wonpil’s hand.

     “Here, have this hyung. We’ll start once you’re settled.” The keyboardist smiled and with no declination, Sungjin took the drink and said,

     “Thanks, Wonpil-ah.” Then he looked at the rest of the band.

“Let’s get to work.”

     Younghyun kept his mouth shut as Dowoon’s face darkened when Wonpil gave his gummy smile towards their leader. It wasn’t his place to say anything and he prayed that a miracle or two would give Wonpil the hint of his best friend’s feeling.

     For reasons unclear to himself, Younghyun had hoped that Jae heard his prayer.

 

     “Hey, Younghyun? Can you come with me?”

Younghyun quirked his eyebrow. “Where to?”

“My house.”

     His eyes went round at Jae’s words and not for the first time Younghyun gaped at the ghost. He collected himself, blinking furiously when he saw Jae’s mouth twitched on one corner. He cleared his throat and stared squarely at the taller guy.

     “And where is this house of yours?” He asked.

Unexpectedly, Jae’s face turned into surprise. “You’ll go with me?” He inquired.

     Younghyun frowned at him. “Were you expecting me to say no?”

“I was.” Jae truthfully told him, nodding his head.

     “Then why did you even ask?” Younghyun shot back at him, turning away from the blonde. He was seated at his study table, something he’d done frequently lately and one of the reasons would be due to his bed being shared and currently occupied. His right hand was holding a pen, hovering over many pieces of paper which contained Sungjin’s lyrics and his own scribbling letters as well.

Jae was silent for a moment. Only a moment. “Will you really go with me if I ask you?”

     Something in those words made Younghyun turned around in his seat and once again stared at the blonde.

     “Anything to make you shut up.” Younghun told him with a look he’d gave the ghost too many times.

     “Wow.” Jae exclaimed. “You’re getting bored of me, aren’t you?” Jae muttered.

_More like getting attached_ , Younghyun’s head thought but he kept his lips tightly pressed together acting as if he was fully concentrating on the lyrics.

Jae sighed noisily. “Fine. If you help me with this, then I’ll call it even.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” Younghyun questioned, not looking up from the papers.

     “You won’t have to see me again.”

The sound of scribbling stopped just as Jae finished his sentence and Younghyun fought hard not to give any reaction.

     But his silence was a dead giveaway.

     “You’re leaving?” Younghyun half-whispered.

“As you wish.” Jae answered uncondescendingly. The blonde pulled himself upright and stared solemnly on the floor, fingers fiddling with one another showing his inner turmoil, something Younghyun had managed to pick up along the way.

     The bassist sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jae blinked, looking up at him.

     Younghyun stared back. Nodded his head.

     “Let’s get you home.”

 


End file.
